


Elves Aren't Real

by DurianDoll



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Elves, Frottage, M/M, Monster of the Week, Pack Holiday, very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DurianDoll/pseuds/DurianDoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack go on a trip to Iceland, Lydia's told them it's for a week of pampering and facials, but Stiles suspects ulterior motives.  Oh and he also has to share a room with Derek Hale, just let him parachute off the plane now please?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elves Aren't Real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YouRunWithTheWolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouRunWithTheWolves/gifts).



> I'm sorry this is very silly but it just came about from a joke with a friend ^_^ Forgive me ✿
> 
> Based on this BBC news [article](http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-27907358)
> 
> Extract from the article: 
> 
> From his desk at the Icelandic highways department in Reykjavik, Petur Matthiasson smiles at me warmly from behind his glasses, but firmly.
> 
> "Let's get this straight before we start - I do not believe in elves," he says.
> 
> I raise my eyebrows slightly and incline my head towards his computer screen which is displaying the plans for a new road in a neighbouring town. There are two yellow circles marked on the plans, one that reads Elf Church and another that reads Elf Chapel. Petur sighs.
> 
> "Ok," he acknowledges wearily.

*******************************

 

"You're kidding right?"

"No Stiles, I'm very serious," Lydia sniffed disapprovingly as Stiles' face cracked into a wide gleeful grin.

"I _knew_ you choosing to vacation in Iceland rather than Hawaii was weird!" Stiles exclaimed triumphantly.  "Icelandic spa retreat my ass!"

"No..." Kira trailed off, reading the brochure in front of her, "we really are going to a geothermal spa, it says right here on our booking forms." 

"Of course we are," Lydia snapped impatiently as she glanced out of the plane window as if hoping to see Reykjavik Airport appear any moment now, whereas in reality they still had about three hours to go.  "Do you really think I'd waste the opportunity to achieve clear skin and a boosted metabolism?"

"Oh _sure_ ," Stiles sing-songed, "you just happened to neglect to mention the fucking _elves_!!!"

He looked to Scott for support, his best friend was also wearing a somewhat doubtful expression.  The face that Derek was pulling, however, was simply golden.  It looked like the grumpy werewolf had inhaled a lemon and then been told Iceland didn't have wifi.

(It did, Stiles had checked)

"Lydia I wish you'd discussed this with the group _before_ booking the entire 'holiday'," Derek gritted out through teeth that looked painfully clenched together. 

'A _pack_ (age) holiday', that's what Lydia had called it when she announced the idea at a weekly pack meeting.  The problem with having Scott as their alpha was basically that Lydia was also their alpha.  Kira just wasn't bossy enough to really abuse of position of power as Scott's girlfriend, whereas Lydia had no qualms in informing Scott that _she_ knew precisely what was best for the group.  A banshee's privilege Stiles guessed, even though they _had_ all been somewhat surprised when she'd produced the brochure for a health farm spa vacation in... _Iceland_. 

Of course there was an ulterior motive.

Stiles had already guessed there would be.  He just hadn't been even remotely prepared for that ulterior motive being _elves_. 

"Elves aren't real Lydia," Derek grumbled, "we could be in Hawaii right now."

Stiles raised his eyebrows in a bemused expression at Derek, "you _wanted_ to go to Hawaii?"

"I surf," Derek replied defensively.

Stiles' brain stuttered on the mental image of Derek in swimming trunks with a glistening tan riding the crest of a large wave. 

" _Damnit_ Lydia why aren't we in Hawaii right now?!" Stiles barked, turning angrily on the red head in the aisle next to them. 

"There are hot springs at the resort Stiles, people will still be wearing swimwear," Lydia replied, _far_ too perceptively for Stiles' tastes. 

"What?! I...I..." Stiles stammered, glancing pleadingly at Scott to come up with some kind of distraction before Derek Hale worked out that the geeky pale human kid had been nursing a monster crush on him for the past two years.  Scott, however, suddenly seemed far too interested in perusing the _Blue Lagoon Resort_ brochure section on 'in water massages'. 

"Does Danny know about this?!" Stiles exclaimed eventually after managing to remember how words functioned in a sentence whilst ignoring the dangerous tango that Derek's eyebrows were doing across his forehead. 

"Who do you think chose the spa?" Lydia smirked, "plus relaxation retreats are perfect for post-break up blues."

Stiles groaned, Danny's new 'single' status had been employed all too frequently by Lydia as an excuse to do something hideously expensive and indulgent recently.  "Why didn't Danny pick Hawaii?" Stiles whined, "surely Danny would pick Hawaii..."

"Hawaii means he'd have to see his grandmother and great aunt," Lydia sighed, "and that's not exactly anyone's idea of a 'relaxing' vacation." 

"Oh but elves are positively pampering," Derek interjected drily.  He was sat furthest away from Stiles, well apart from Danny who'd somehow ended up being bumped up to first class by the somewhat smitten air steward back at the check-in desk.  Next to Derek was Kira, the two of them had seemingly bonded over being kickass in leather jackets and having been brought up in old-school families.  They were also basically co-presidents of the Scott McCall fanclub.  Not that Stiles wasn't a fan of his best friend, it's just that he didn't need to be in Derek's stupid club to prove it, not that there even _was_ an actual club...

not the point.

"Elves!" Stiles shouted before Lydia shot him a sharp glare.  A few of the other passengers had turned around with warm smiles, probably expecting to see a small child excited about going somewhere Christmassy with snow.  Upon seeing a twenty year old Stiles, however, their expressions morphed into concerned frowns. 

"I was researching them recently and it's really quite interesting..." Lydia began as Stiles groaned. 

About six months ago, Lydia, Stiles, Kira, Scott , Derek and Danny had all been recruited by an undercover organisation who regarded themselves as the 'safe-keepers' of the supernatural.  The pay was good and the hours weren't particularly punishing, it just involved a lot of research and maybe the odd nearly fatal / potential loss of limb encounter with your not so friendly neighbourhood monster.

"Oh my god is this a working holiday?!" Stiles exclaimed, turning dramatically to Scott who pulled a sympathetic face. 

"Well..." Lydia hummed, "we _may_ be travelling on expenses but..."

"But?!" Stiles half yelled before being shushed again. 

"Look it's not that big a deal," Lydia huffed, "we get a free spa holiday and just have to do a tiny bit of surveillance work on the side."

"Stiles does kinda have a point though Lydia," Scott scrunched up his face, "I mean, are elves even real?"

"No," Derek replied firmly before calling over a flight attendant and ordering a beer.  Stiles grumbled internally, he reckoned the older boy just did it to piss off Stiles intentionally.  Then again it seemed that most things Derek Hale did were designed to deliberately drive Stiles Stilinski mad.  Like having those dumb bunny teeth that hooked over his bottom lip when he was trying to add something up or pondering a particularly difficult problem.  Or like how Derek would rub his stubble whenever he was nervous, as if trying to remind himself he was a grown up. 

It was fucking adorable okay.

and fucking _annoying_.

"There's a lot of debate about it," Lydia began, "which is why Thompson felt it should be looked into further."

Thompson was the group's handler for Griffin, the organization for which they worked.  He was also hopelessly in love with Lydia and would probably have granted her a budget to go research the supernatural elements of high end shopping in Milan if she requested it. 

"This is a conspiracy," Stiles muttered angrily, slumping down in his chair and death-staring the in-flight magazine. 

"I'm sure you'll get over it Stiles," Lydia hummed, "when I prove the huldufólk are very real."

"I thought we were going to look for elves?" Kira asked uncertainly.

"Huldufólk are the Icelandic equivalent," Lydia told her with far more patience than she would have had had Stiles been the one daring to question her. 

"Do they live with Santa in his grotto?" Stiles mumbled petulantly.

"Santa's real too?!" Scott exclaimed with a look of abject happiness.

"Don't be ridiculous Scott," Lydia snapped, "and no, these are not little jingle bell toy making elves.  Huldufólk are a very respected race of fairy folk in Iceland, they're know as the 'hidden people', as they are most often invisible to humans."

"So what's the plan?" Stiles sighed, "we track down Legolas in between our pedicures?"

"If we find evidence of the huldufólk I can finally publish my paper!" Lydia exclaimed exasperatedly.  That's another thing, they were all enrolled in Griffin's online university courses and were now only a couple of years off of graduating.  The workload was pretty heavy though, especially considering they also worked part time for the Research Division of the association.

Stiles rolled his eyes, of course Lydia would somehow manage to orientate their annual pack vacation around both her academic career _and_ her desire for constant facials. 

"It doesn't exactly help with my paper," Stiles muttered before regretting bringing his paper up. 

"Mating habits and rituals of humanoid supernatural beings?" Lydia asked in a slightly too loud voice with a slightly too innocent smile.  Stiles thought he might have seen Derek tense but it could have just been his imagination, (or wishful thinking that anything Stiles did ever could possibly affect Derek.) 

"They do volcanic stone massages," Lydia whispered to Kira who grinned approvingly.  Damn it, Lydia had already managed to get another pack member on her side.

Derek had also quietened down in his protestations since he found out the trip also doubled as a work assignment.  Say all you want about leather jackets and 'bad boy' personas, but when it came down to it, Derek Hale was a horrific goody-two shoes who was always happy to do anything Griffin asked, like some kind of obedient do....okay Stiles will just put that metaphor back down and never touch it again. 

"Could be worse," Scott said in a low voice to Stiles, "remember Peru?"

"I will remember Peru for the rest of my life Scott," Stiles replied in a measured voice that successfully masked the amount of internal screaming that was happening right now.

Life hack - When Lydia Martin suggests you all go to Peru for a 'hiking holiday' do not believe her.  _Never_ believe her.

Oh and by the way? Demon Alpacas? Totally a thing.

 

But of course Lydia got a lovely new research paper _and_ an 'adorable' sweater and scarf out of the deal.

Stiles got a bite mark scar on his left butt cheek that was decidedly _not_ of the 'kinky' variety.

"Do we have travel insurance this time at least?" Stiles asked dejectedly.

"Of course Stiles, I just ticked the box requesting extra cover for elf-induced injuries," Lydia rolled her eyes as if _Stiles_ was the crazy one here, as if _he'd_ made them all travel 4,200 miles to try and find invisible elves. 

At least Stiles had Candy Crush on his phone and the resort's menu didn't look too bad.

 

 

*******************************************

 

 

"You're kidding right?"

"Is that literally all you're going to say this trip?" Lydia huffed, before turning and giving the receptionist a warm smile, "that's perfect, thank you."

"Lydia..." Stiles growled warningly.

"Look," Lydia snapped, wheeling back round on him, "the budget was only modest, given that this isn't a high priority mission.  I had to prioritise and treatments at spas like this don't come cheap."

"So you prioritised mud wraps over my dignity?" Stiles hissed at her, flicking his eyes nervously over to where Derek was still engrossed in conversation with Scott and Kira.

"Really I thought you'd be pleased Stiles," Lydia sighed, "I mean isn't getting to share a room with Derek Hale like your wet dream or something?"

"Precisely!" Stiles exclaimed somewhat hysterically, "I can't have those kind of dreams with him _actually_ in the room!" Stiles let out a groan of despair as he banged his head against the resort's check in desk.

"Stiles stop that, you're scaring the receptionist," Lydia trilled uninterestedly.

"Swap with me," Stiles pleaded, "I'll room with Danny." 

"That's just impractical," Lydia sighed, "Danny and I have booked most of our treatments together." 

"You expect me to go get all oiled up with _Derek Hale_?" Stiles whispered in a hushed shriek. 

"Oh for heaven's sakes Stiles I don't care," Lydia announced, "you're sharing a room with him whether you like it or not, try to be more professional."

"So this _is_ a work trip?!" Stiles called out after her as Lydia flounced off towards the elevators with Danny in tow. 

"Scott, buddy!" Stiles beamed.

"No way," Scott smiled, shaking his head as he detached from Derek and Kira and walked over to Stiles.  "Do you know how long Kira and I have had to wait to get some time on our own? Her mom is always at the house and mine has the _worst_ timing ever." 

Stiles made a choked sound to try to convey to Scott that death was imminent. 

"Look on this as a golden opportunity buddy," Scott winked, clapping Stiles on the back.

"What's a golden opportunity?" Derek asked drily, suddenly coming up beside them and appearing like a ninja.

"Elf sex!" Stiles cried out desperately before his brain caught up with his mouth and subsequently tried to tip toe backwards, whistling nonchalantly and pretending not to know it. 

"Elf sex," Derek repeated bluntly, his left eye looked like it might be twitching.

"Oh for your research paper?" Kira asked with an enthusiastic and encouraging smile.

Had Stiles ever mentioned how much he loved Kira?

"Yes!" Stiles replied, latching onto Kira's lifeline like a drowning man, "I mean, if they _are_ real, they probably, y'know...do the frick frack...and if they...do the frick frack, then there might be like interesting rituals for....the frick frack," Stiles trailed off as Scott and Kira's eyes grew wider and Scott began making not so subtle execution gestures signalling that Stiles should probably stop talking. 

"You use the phrase 'frick frack' in you research paper?" Derek asked after a moment of silence that Stiles figured was a mark of respectful mourning for his recently deceased dignity. 

"I..." Stiles began when the receptionist interrupted them, "Okay here are the key cards, who would like the twin room and who would like the double?"

"TWIN!!!" Stiles yelled, practically pouncing on the poor woman and wrenching one of the key cards out of her hand before she could pull him back and swap it for the other one. 

"Last one to the room is an alpha with performance problems!!!" Stiles shouted before a bubble of histrionic laughter bubbled out of him along with his will to live.  He subsequently began to leg it up the stairs before realising he'd forgotten to ask what floor they were on...also that the hotel had elevators....and that his luggage was still downstairs. 

Eventually after staggering up and down five flights of stairs to find room 68, Stiles located it, illogically on the third floor.  Derek was already waiting outside the room, along with both his suitcase and Stiles', an unimpressed look on his face.

"You have the only key," Derek told Stiles with a judgementally raised eyebrow. 

 

The room itself was pretty nice.  They had a view out across the rocky landscape and Stiles could see the plush looking swimming pool on the patio below.  "Hey," he called back to Derek who was currently unpacking his socks and folding them into a drawer.

_who folded socks???_

_Derek Hale apparently._

 

Stiles tried to pretend that he didn't know this already.

"What?" Derek called back in a grumpy tone of voice, making Stiles smile.  If the werewolf was actually still mad at Stiles he wouldn't have bothered replying.  Any reply from Derek, no matter how irritated-sounding was a green light for conversation.

"Do you think if I jumped off the balcony to the pool below I'd hit the bottom?"

Derek looked up with a slightly wary expression, "Stiles..."

"Yeah?"

"Step away from the balcony,"

Stiles snorted and held up his hands innocently, "Please I'd save a stunt like that for the last day in case I broke my leg or something...hey if I _do_ break my leg do you reckon I can sue Griffin for a workplace accident?"

"I don't think anyone would classify you dive bombing off of the hotel balcony into the pool as an 'accident' Stiles," Derek sighed, but there was the hint of a smile on his face. 

"But what if..."

"Stiles if you don't shut up I will _throw_ you off the balcony,"

Stiles grinned back at Derek who looked up with a distinctly amused expression.  Stiles' heart fluttered, he'd only ever seen that shy gentle smile on Derek when they were alone, normally when Derek was indulging Stiles in one of his random crazy trains of thought.  It made Stiles feel warm and fuzzy inside that there was a side to Derek that only he could bring out...or at least he hoped it was just with him. 

"We should go to bed," Derek stated suddenly.

"W-what?" Stiles stammered helplessly.

"It's late," Derek replied in a slow voice as if talking to a child, "Lydia wants us up early tomorrow to go look at some Elf Chapel, I don't want jet lag."

"Oh! Okay sure of course!" Stiles exclaimed a little too loudly and suddenly wondering if he could still jump off of the balcony. 

Derek paused his sock folding to glance up at Stiles with a small crooked smile and a raised eyebrow.  Stiles' heart sank, 'this is it' he thought to himself, 'he knows and he's going to lord it over me forever'. 

"I expected more of a protest," Derek said instead, "last time we all travelled to France to help the Argents you refused to come off of American time."

"Well when in Rome eh?!" Stiles laughed, feeling like a floundering fish, "Well, I mean Reykjavik."

"Sure..." Derek narrowed his eyes as if assessing whether or not to seek Stiles immediate psychiatric medical attention.  In the end he must have decided against it because he gestured nonchalantly at the beds, "I assume you want the left?"

"How did you know which side I sleep on?" Stiles asked, surprised and feeling his chest swell with pleasure.

"You already put your stuff on it," Derek replied without looking up and simultaneously managing to stick a needle in Stiles' rapidly deflating chest. 

That night Stiles dreamt that he was an elf in Santa's workshop, the rest of the pack were there too but Thompson was Father Christmas ordering them all to make train sets for the children of the world.  Stiles' jangly bell hat kept flopping in his eyes and Derek, who was situated in the workstation opposite him, looked grumpier than ever in his candy stripe tights and elfin booties. 

 

 

 ***************************** 

 

 

"Noo Derek we can't, not in Santa's _grotto_..."

"Stiles?"

"Oooh what's that in your stocking?"

"Stiles?!"

"Am I on the naughty list this year?"

"Stiles!?!"

"Let's see if we can make Christmas come twice..."

"JESUS CHRIST STILES WAKE UP!"

Stiles jack-knifed up in the bed, slamming his head into something very hard and angular.  He yelped in pain, clutching at his forehead as the hard angular shape let out a reciprocal groan of discomfort.

"Scott?" Stiles whimpered, bringing the moaning lump in front of him into bleary-eyed focus.

"Yeah it's me you idiot," Scott groaned, "I think you broke my jaw,"

"You'll heal, you're a werewolf," Stiles muttered, "my head on the other hand, is now permanently cracked."

"Well we already knew _that_ ," Scott laughed as he pulled himself upright before giving up and sprawling over Stiles' legs instead.

"Plus maybe I knocked your jaw back the right way so now you'll be symmetrical," Stiles suggested, giggling as Scott growled at him. 

"You're lucky Derek's gone down to get breakfast," Scott sighed, propping himself up and waggling his eyebrows at Stiles, "I think things were about to get interesting in Santa's grotto."

Stiles felt all of the colour drain out of his face, "Er...what?"

"I think someone was about to get stuck in a chimney," Scott said with a very serious tone of voice, although his face looked like he'd just won the lottery but was trying to pretend everything was normal.

"Oh...my...god...kill me now," Stiles groaned, flopping back down and pulling the pillow over his head.

"No, no it was good stuff!" Scott protested with an honest to god giggle-snort.  "Now tell me what kind of toys exactly you guys were making in there?"

"Shut up, I hate you," Stiles griped, stretching out his hand in an attempt to blindly hit his ex-best friend.  Scott laughed loudly, "So precisely what _was_ in Derek's stocking?"

"My what?"  Derek's voice came from the door, making Stiles' blood turn to ice.  He wondered if he could permanently take up residence under this pillow and just refuse to resurface ever again? He'd just have to get Scott to occasionally slide candy bars underneath for him. 

"We're planning people's Christmas presents!" Scott exclaimed, sounding way too pleased with himself for coming up with an excuse on such short notice. 

"It's July," Derek replied in a wooden voice.

"Sometimes Christmas comes early," Scott told Derek sagely as Stiles yelped and attempted to knee him in the crotch.  Scott laughed gleefully, easily deflecting Stiles' knee of wrath and sliding off the bed, "Alright I'm going now, I promised Kira I'd bring her breakfast in bed, I'll see you guys in half an hour!"

"Um..." Stiles pulled the pillow tentatively down from his face to find Scott already gone and Derek standing at the foot of Stiles' bed with his arms folded over his chest.  "Good morning?" Stiles attempted valiantly as Derek huffed and chucked him something. 

"Is this a blueberry muffin?" Stiles asked with wonder.

"Didn't think you'd make it up in time for breakfast," Derek shrugged, moving back towards his own side of the room and grabbing a jacket, "you should get dressed," he told Stiles, " _after_ you eat your muffin though.  I've seen the way you eat."

"Hey!" Stiles protested weakly, but he knew it was true and he'd rather the clothes that he chose to wear all day stay crumb-free. 

"Thanks," he said quietly as he began to unwrap the delicious looking muffin that smelled freshly baked.

"You're welcome Stiles," Derek replied, just as quietly. 

 

 

*************************************************

 

 

"You're kidding right?"

"STILES!" everyone shouted in unison as Stiles winced and rounded on them all.

"No but seriously?!"

"I've worked out the schedule so it's fair to everyone Stiles," Lydia announced matter-of-factly. 

"And you lot getting manicures and mud wraps on the first day whilst Derek and I go on some dangerous elven quest through the fucking mountains is _fair_ is it?!" Stiles stammered indignantly.   

"Okay firstly, we're getting manicures, eyebrow tinting and 'nourishing and glowing algae treatment'," Lydia corrected him, "and secondly, it's not exactly a 'dangerous quest through mountains' Stiles, you're going to be walking down some _road_ through _hills_ and you'll have Derek with you for protection from the elves you don't even believe in." 

"Scott's getting his eyebrows tinted?" Derek frowned at Lydia who sighed wearily.  "Look I promise I'll book you two in for something really luxurious tomorrow okay? You can have the 'silica indulgence' massages, happy?" she pouted.

"Do we look happy?" Stiles grunted, gesturing to himself and Derek before freezing mid-point.  Derek actually _did_ look kinda happy...Stiles guessed maybe the idea of ranging countryside and unpopulated freedom might be quite exciting after the confinement of California for a werewolf. 

"Fine," Stiles grouched, "but I want the 'Salt Glow' treatment instead,"

"Whatever you want princess," Lydia smiled with the look of a woman who knew she had won. 

 

 

**********************

 

"Go ahead Stiles," Derek announced halfway down a long and winding road that could quite possibly have been leading them to Mordor.

"What?" Stiles asked, feeling rather confused seeing as they'd just amiably been chatting about baseball for the last half hour. 

"Go ahead and make the 'walkies' joke you've been keeping in all trek," Derek sighed, although he didn't sound genuinely annoyed.

"Dude..." Stiles trailed off, "I honestly didn't even think of one."

Derek raised an incredulous eyebrow but gave a quick nod as if acknowledging that it hadn't been a lie, though whether he'd listened to Stiles' heart or not to find out, Stiles wasn't sure. 

"Elf jokes, however," Stiles began with a grin as Derek chuckled drily.

"Don't," the werewolf said warningly, "Lydia will kill you if you start some kind of diplomatic incident with the Huldufólk."

"Don't tell me you are actually entertaining the idea that they might be real?!" Stiles exclaimed.

"Since when were you a sceptic?" Derek asked with an amused look.

"Since when were you _not_?!" Stiles retorted, "for a werewolf you sure have a lot of problems believing in half the shit we actually physically _see_." 

"True," Derek agreed, "but in my defence the last supernatural creatures we ran into were vampire jellyfish."

"I kept trying to tell people that the only immortal species known to man was a jellyfish and wasn't that all just a _little_ suspicious?!" Stiles shouted.

"Yes Stiles, you're right, we should have of course realised that the brainless floating lumps of jello in the ocean were out for our blood."

"Dude, never trust anything with tentacles, it's like Monsters 101," Stiles snorted, "things with tentacles or things that have dated Derek Hale."

Stiles winced as Derek drew to a stop, "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot," he mumbled, red faced and turning back round to see Derek staring at a rocky outcrop to their right.

"Derek? Look that was a low blow, if it makes you feel better you can totally make a gag at my expense? Everybody I kiss dies or disappears, I'm like freaking Rogue from X-Men or Bo from Lost Girl."

"Stiles, shut up."

"No seriously dude, if you ever need to fall off the face of the Earth after a crime heist gone wrong or if the Feds are after you, just come and ask me to pucker up..."

" _Stiles_!" Derek hissed, making Stiles flinch and jump backwards.  " _Stop talking_."

Derek pointed meaningfully towards the cluster of rocks on the horizon, well, he pointed meaningfully to one of the _many_ clusters of rocks on the horizon.

"What is it boy? You see a squirrel?" Stiles grinned in a pathetic attempt to distract Derek from the fact he'd just suggested in a round-about way that they make out.

"Stiles I will gag you if I have to," Derek muttered before pacing a few steps forward and giving Stiles a glorious view of him from behind in the new black jeans that he'd bought out shopping with Lydia and Kira.

(Sometimes in life things happen that can't be explained or understood, like the physics of black holes, the bloop noise in the ocean or Derek Hale going on mall shopping trips with the girls.) 

 _I would let you gag me_...

Stiles cursed at his internal monologue that was apparently a lot more sexually confident than he was and tried to focus on the suspicious rocks.  He was about to make another ill thought out joke when he suddenly saw something that looked like a shadow flit across the pale grey surface. 

"Er, Derek..."

"I saw it too Stiles,"

"I didn't scream this time,"

"Good job Stiles."

The last person they had come across Stiles had screamed and thrown himself into Derek's arms.  It had turned out to be a bird watcher from the hotel.

"We hadn't seen another living soul for miles!" Stiles protested after noticing Derek's smirk. 

"He was a very threatening looking bird watcher," Derek concurred, moving forwards again and striding towards the rocks before Stiles could voice an indignant response. 

"Hey..." Stiles called out in a loud whisper, "do we know if elves are dangerous?"

"Reckon they're more dangerous than a hungry werewolf?" Derek asked, turning round with a sharp expression.

"Okay, for the last time, _you_ were meant to bring the packed lunches," Stiles hissed back, " _I_ was meant to bring the bestiary,"

"And where's the bestiary Stiles?"

"I've got the Griffin phone app smartass," Stiles muttered, shooting a dark look at Derek whilst drawing his cellphone out of his pocket. "...which has no battery, fucking perfect," he whispered to himself before remembering about werewolf hearing.  Derek huffed pointedly from up ahead and began to walk even faster as if to signal his superiority.

"So what exactly are we meant to do if we _do_ find elves up here?" Stiles asked, squinting back up at the looming rocks, which seemed a lot bigger the closer they got. 

"Introduce ourselves I suppose," Derek shrugged, "they should be able to sense that I'm one of them."

"Dude - you're part elf? Well I guess that explains the ears..."

" _Supernatural_ , Stiles," Derek replied through gritted teeth, "they should be able to tell that I'm a supernatural being as well."  He turned to give Stiles a curious look, "Although given that you're just human they might not reveal themselves with you about."

"Hey!" Stiles exclaimed, "I'll have you know I've been told I've got a _spark_." 

"Huldufólk don't like electricity," Derek retorted, biting his lip as if trying not to smile.

"Better not send Kira out here then," Stiles grumbled as he overtook Derek and began to ascend the first rock slope.  "I'm going first in case I fall," Stiles called back in explanation, "I'll need someone to land on."

"Glad to hear it," Derek sighed as he began to climb up the rock face below Stiles and making it look a hell of a lot easier than it really was.  "Why do I feel like some horrible door to door evangelist right now?" Stiles groaned as he raised himself up onto a small plateau, "like we're totally turning up at these non-existent elves' door with the Book of Bestiary ready to say 'Hi! Have you have tried Griffin yet?'   I'm telling you Derek, we're gonna get the door slammed in our facessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss..........."

"Stiles?! Stiles?!"

Stiles blinked groggily up at the large disc of light about him, there was a small blip on one side of the disc.  Stiles soon worked out that this blip was in fact a furiously shouting Derek Hale, leaning over the side of the giant freaking hole that Stiles had just fallen into. 

"M'fine..." Stiles murmured weakly as he struggled to move and hissed with the feeling of sudden pain shooting up from his ankle. 

There was a loud thud nearby and Stiles realised with a sinking heart that Derek had jumped down into the pit.  "Whatchu doing?" Stiles slurred angrily, "now how are we gonna get out dumbass?"

"You sounded hurt!" Derek snapped back irritably, "and I could smell blood."

"You could have gone and gotten help," Stiles whined, trying to shift his leg and finding that it no longer wanted to move without causing him immeasurable agony. 

"I panicked," Derek admitted quietly.  The confession made Stiles feel weird somehow, he'd been expecting another defensive retort, which was far more Derek-esque.  Right now, however, Stiles' head hurt way too much to try and analyse the butterflies doing a full dance aerobics work out in his stomach. 

"I thought you were going to wait to break your leg until the last day?" Derek said with a sigh, effectively diffusing the weird tension that had been building up. 

"Was an accident," Stiles mumbled, groaning as he looked up again at the only entrance and exit to the pit where he would undoubtedly now be living out the rest of his days. 

"I don't even have a teddy bear called Osito..." Stiles mumbled.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Derek snapped before moving to cradle Stiles' face in his hands, "Stiles? Stiles you can't fall asleep okay, I think you've got a concussion." 

"Can't you just werewolf backflip out of here and go get help?" Stiles asked petulantly, knowing that if this was possible, Derek would have probably done it already. 

"I don't think I can," Derek shook his head, "the walls are smooth slate and it's too high up to jump straight."   He turned back to Stiles, shaking him further awake, "Plus you shouldn't be left alone right now,"

"We're in a hole in Iceland with no food," Stiles moaned pitifully, "while the rest of the pack get freaking mud wraps,"

"Could be worse," Derek shrugged.

"Demon alpacas in Peru?" Stiles asked with a shudder.

"Demon alpacas," Derek concurred with the look and nod of a man who has seen things no man should ever see. 

"What if we have to stay here overnight?" Stiles groaned, "we'll freeze."

"It's July Stiles,"

"The clue is in the name Derek - it's _Ice_ land!"

"It's sixty-five degrees outside," Derek replied in a tone of voice that sounded like he was smiling.  Stiles couldn't understand what the hell there was to smile about, they were going to die in an elf hole in Iceland because Lydia wanted a good grade. 

"I'm going to come back at a ghost and haunt her twenty-four seven!" Stiles announced, assuming Derek would realise who he was talking about.  "Let's see her try to write a research paper about that!"

"Stiles, be quiet for a moment,"

"Are you freaking serious?"

" _Stiles_! Stop talking, I don't think we're alone down here."

Stiles froze, the pain from his leg momentarily forgotten, his mind raced through all the creatures they knew for sure Iceland _did_ actually have.  Not all of them would be particularly pleasant to be stuck in a pit with.  "Don't be a troll," Stiles pleaded under his breath, "please don't be a troll..." 

"Trolls are actually very misunderstood," a voice sing-songed from the patchy shadows at the sides of the small cavern. 

"Who's there?" Derek called out whilst letting his fangs grow, sliding past his lips and glinting dangerously in the dim light.  Normally Derek's teeth coming out meant bad things for Stiles, but right now he was very glad they'd made an appearance. 

"You stumble like oafs into _my_ home and you demand to know who _I_ am?" the voice hummed as it slipped over Stiles' skin like a silk scarf, chilling him and raising the hairs on his arms.  Derek glanced quickly at Stiles, giving him a meaningful look that Stiles wisely interpreted to mean, "Don't say anything, don't fuck this up, let me handle this."

"Holy shit are you an elf?!!" Stiles announced five seconds later after remembering that he never listened to Derek's advice. 

"I am not anything for you," the voice replied softly, "to human eyes I am nothing but shadow and wind." 

"My eyes are less human," Derek growled, revealing a flash of ice cold blue in the darkness. 

"A wolf in my garden..." the voice whispered thoughtfully, though the owner didn't sound too alarmed. 

"We don't want any trouble," Derek added firmly, "my...friend...is hurt, he needs help."

Stiles' heart tripped along with Derek's tongue on the word 'friend'.  Did Derek really not consider him a friend? Stiles couldn't help but feel a little hurt.  I mean the guy had jumped into an inescapable pit on his behalf...or was that just because he couldn't go back to Scott without a Stiles in tow?

"I will let you leave," the voice told them as a figure drew out into the light.  A beautiful young woman with long silvery hair emerged before them.  Her eyes were the same pale grey as the rocks from which she had evidently forged her home and she was wearing a long white dress of an ethereal looking material. 

"Huldufólk..." Stiles breathed out slowly in reverence and surprise.

"The hidden people," the woman replied with a smile that gave Stiles goose-bumps.  "Why have you been looking for us?"

"How...how do you know we've been looking for you?" Stiles stammered.

"You talk very loudly," the elf sighed, "I would be surprised if you ever find anyone who doesn't want to be found." 

"We found you," Derek growled menacingly.

"Exactly," the woman smiled again, "I also overheard that you had forgotten your lunch...perhaps you would like to try some of our food?"

"Nuh uh, no thank you lady," Stiles stood his head vehemently, regretting it somewhat as the world started to tip again and he had to slump against Derek's shoulder for support.  "We know all about not accepting food from fairy folk, you think we're newbies at this game?"

"You fell in a hole," the elf pointed out drily as Derek growled again.

"Calm down Balto, she has kinda got us there," Stiles sighed.  "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot, or at least I certainly did," he huffed and gestured down to his now decidedly swollen ankle.  "My point is, maybe we could start over? Like hello, my name is Stiles, my snarling friend here is Derek, we're from an organisation called 'Griffin'.

"No thank you," the female elf replied in a curt voice before disappearing in a puff of mist.

"Oh my god I think I just got the supernatural equivalent of a door slammed in my face," Stiles exclaimed turning to Derek with an indignant expression.  Derek, however, was still staring at the spot where the elf had been a few seconds before.

"He can't see or hear you?" Derek asked with a frown.

"Wh...what Derek? Dude who are you talking to?" Stiles asked confused as he waved a hand in front of Derek's face to get the werewolf's attention. 

"I understand," Derek said, still not looking at Stiles.  "Yes, I'll give them to you, just show us the way out."

"Derek?" Stiles asked, more uncertainly now, afraid that perhaps the elf-woman had put Derek under some kind of spell.

"She's still here Stiles," Derek sighed wearily, "I can still hear and see her, she's decided not to interact with you."

"What's wrong with me?!" Stiles exclaimed.

"You want a list?" Derek muttered back before shaking his head, "I don't know Stiles, you're human and she says that the huldufólk don't want anything to do with Griffin.  The clue is in the name ' _hidden_ folk'.

"Fine, well there goes Lydia's research paper!" Stiles said exasperatedly, not that he actually cared about Lydia's grades right now.  He was far more concerned about getting out of the elf hole alive. 

"She's agreed to show us the way out, if we promise not to come back and bother them again," Derek continued saying before there was a loud crack and a door opened to reveal a passageway on one side of the pit. 

"Just like that?" Stiles asked suspiciously as Derek had to help him to his feet.

"Not exactly," Derek replied quietly before reaching out to steady an already unbalanced Stiles.  "Hold on to me," he instructed in a voice that suggested the idea of having Stiles hanging off his arm was equivalent to being told you needed parasite leech therapy for a medical condition. 

Stiles wrapped his own arm around Derek's unfairly muscled bicep and they began to edge towards the tunnel.  "So what exactly does she want from us then?" Stiles groaned, "unless it's a cupboard's worth of instant ramen and a horrific amount of student debt that I won't be able to pay off until I'm thirty, then I can't help her."   

"She wants five truths," Derek muttered.

"Five truths?" Stiles scrunched up his face, "what about?"

"I don't know yet," Derek replied, sounding more annoyed by the second, "she's going to ask me five questions and I have to answer truthfully or the five tunnel doors ahead of us won't open. 

"Okay..." Stiles said, "well I guess that doesn't sound too bad?"

"Sometimes the most frightening thing to have taken from you is the truth," Derek stated in a low voice.  "Or at least that's what the elf just told me." 

"Is she still _here_?" Stiles hissed, clutching tighter to Derek and attempting to wheel around on one foot, blinking like an owl with conjunctivitis into the darkness. 

"Stiles, stop squirming," Derek ordered as he gave a sharp yank on the younger boy's arm, "and of course she's still here, how else would she hear my answers?"

"Elvish walkie talkie?" Stiles hazarded before seeing Derek's expression and shrugging, "hey, I'm partially concussed, you said so yourself so no judging."

"We really need to get you to a doctor," Derek muttered frustratedly as they began to approach the first door which was designed with a swirling silver pattern.  Derek brought the two of them to a stop, presumably on the orders of the elf, before narrowing his eyes in focus as if listening to a question that Stiles couldn't hear. 

Derek's expression turned somewhat sad as he gave his reply, "My sister Cora's ninth birthday."

The door swung open with a loud satisfying click.

"So what did she..." Stiles began before Derek bit back,

"Later Stiles."

The second door was painted pitch black so as to blend in with the slate around it, the hinges were triangular slabs of metal and looked like horizontal lines of teeth gnawing at the aged wood.

Again, Derek stopped, and again there was a moment of quiet.

"Fire," he replied quickly, but the door remained locked.

"Er...Derek?" Stiles hazarded tentatively, you sure that was the right answer?

"It must have changed," Derek mumbled before frowning at the ground as if it had just insulted him. 

"Losing my pack," Derek whispered quietly as the door swung open.

Stiles guessed he must have been asked the worst thing that had ever happened to him.  It felt like a bucket of ice water being poured over Stiles as he gingerly limped towards the third door which was a blood red and looked so freshly painted that it was still leaving puddles of drip marks on the floor. 

"Erica and Boyd," Derek answered after a slightly longer wait.  Stiles could feel the werewolf's muscles hardening and tensing underneath him.  He suddenly realised how much could be taken from you along with the truth.  Stiles raised his other hand to lay it on Derek's shoulder in a gesture of support.  "Hey buddy - do you think maybe I could answer some from now on? You can just relay the questions to me."

"She says human truths are worthless," Derek gritted, "they can never be pure, they're always contaminated by context or twisted by emotion."

"Okay..." Stiles replied, not sure what else to say to that.  "Well we could always go back and just wait for Scott? I'm sure if you howl loud enough he'll hear us through his mud massage."

"You need to see a doctor," Derek replied bitterly but firmly as they approached door number four.  The silence seemed to be getting longer each time, although whether it was because the questions were becoming wordier or whether Derek was becoming more loathed to answer, Stiles wasn't sure.

"Yes," Derek sighed eventually as the door swung open to a reveal another one not far ahead, through which cracks of light were shining.

"Last one," Stiles said, trying to sound enthusiastic and comforting but falling somewhat short. 

At the last question, that again, wasn't picked up by Stiles' human ears, Derek looked like someone had just told him to run over hot coals whilst reciting Moby Dick backwards.  It wasn't so much a grimace as a sour twisted contortion of features that beamed the message 'I do not want to answer this' pretty much for everyone to see.

"Here," Derek spat out after he looked like he might be about to pass out or give birth, Stiles wasn't sure which would be more disturbing right now.  "This tunnel,"

The final door clicked open a fraction, creaking loudly in protest as Derek threw his weight against it and led them both out into the light.  Stiles hobbling desperately to keep up.

They didn't speak all the way back to the hotel, except for Derek to grunt at Stiles half way along the road, telling him to stop being stubborn and just accept a piggy back. 

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders and clasped his hands in the centre of his chest.  He could feel the other man's heart, beating a steady rhythm as he marched them back.  Stiles leaned forwards to inhale the scent at the back of Derek's neck, he smelled like forests, pine, spice and leather.  He smelled like home.

Stiles guessed that he must have fallen asleep somewhere along the journey because the next thing he knew was he was waking up in an unfamiliar room and there was a cast on his right ankle.

"And he's awake," Lydia's voice announced, "so you can stop looking like you want to tear us all limb from limb Derek."

Stiles couldn't help but smile at the subsequent growl that he'd grown so fond of.  It was such a 'Derek' growl, surprisingly somewhat higher and lighter than Scott's, but still interwoven with enough feral ferocity to make any vampire jellyfish or demon alpaca think twice about messing with them. 

 "You okay Stiles?" Scott asked, coming over to sit down next to him in what Stiles could now make out was some sort of light and airy hospital room.

"M'fine," Stiles grinned, "guess what Scotty?"

"You found the elves, yes we know," Lydia interrupted.

"Aw you told them without me?" Stiles moaned, glancing up at Derek with a pout that turned into a smirk as the werewolf rolled his eyes.

"Technically you were here!" Kira interjected, "albeit unconscious."

"I hear they weren't too amenable to the idea of Griffin affiliation?" Lydia sniffed disapprovingly as if she thought she could have done a better job.

"Cut them a break Lyds," Danny smiled, "Derek's already offered to tell you everything he remembers so you can write your paper."

 

 

*************************************

 

 

The next day Stiles was stretched out by the pool with a platter of fresh fruit and cheese beside him, some kind of sparkling elderflower drink in his hand and his sunglasses on.

"Now _this_ ," he began, jabbing his finger at Lydia who was sat cross legged on the sun lounger next to him, " _this_ is a vacation." 

"I'm glad you've finally stopped complaining Stiles," Lydia sighed breezily as she shuffled through her papers and clicked her phone's voice recorder app on, "Okay interview with Derek Hale number four, - 'the truths'."

The rest of the group were also all gathered around them, sipping on equally colourful frothy drinks.  Scott, Kira and Danny had all opted for some kind of seaweed mask that morning and the three of them still had green gunk plastered over their faces.  Stiles couldn't help but stare at the large crack that was currently forming across the shifting tectonic plates of Scott's forehead.

"The first question the huldufólk female asked you?" Lydia began, shifting her new glasses further up her nose and looking incredibly studious in that incredibly sexy way that Lydia Martin just _would_ be able to pull off. 

"My happiest memory," Derek said slowly, as if trying to remember the wording correctly, or perhaps it was just difficult to go through again.  That's when it occurred to Stiles that there were currently five people,  instead of five doors, crowding him by an Icelandic pool, asking him the same probing questions and expecting the same soul-baring answers.

"Guys maybe we should..." Stiles began to say before Lydia interrupted him with a perfunctory glare as if just by interfering he was risking lowering her grade.

Thankfully Danny was still chatting to an Italian tourist, whereas Scott and Kira were giggling together and attempting to wipe off each other's face masks.  Stiles guessed really that he was the only one listening other than Lydia and it wasn't exactly like he could make a quick / subtle escape with his ankle cast and crutches. 

"And what did you answer?" Lydia asked with a look of concentration.

"I said Cora's ninth birthday," Derek sighed, although he looked less affected than he had done down in the tunnels.

"Second question?" Lydia prompted after Derek had described the visual appearance of the doors in detail. 

"What is your worst fear?"

Stiles' heart clenched in realisation as he remembered Derek's answers, the wrong one of 'fire' first and then 'losing my pack'.  He hadn't been talking about a past event at all, he'd been referring to his current pack...to _them_. 

"Third question?" Lydia asked, jerking Stiles' attention back to the conversation.

"What was your biggest mistake?" Derek repeated in a somewhat more confident tone of voice, "I answered Erica and Boyd."

Scott and Kira paused what they were doing, even Danny looked round with a sympathetic expression.

"I know what you're wondering," Derek gritted defensively, not meeting anyone's eyes, "why didn't I say Kate? Why would I feel worse about Erica and Boyd than my own family?  Because I wasn't a kid anymore, I...I should have known better." 

"Hey...Derek..." Stiles began, not sure at all what he intended to say. 

"Question number five was 'Are you in love?'" Derek continued quickly as if trying to get everything out as fast as possible, like ripping off a band-aid.  "I answered 'Yes', Question number six was 'What do you want to leave behind you?' I answered 'the tunnel'.  If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room."  Derek added in a monotone voice before standing up and stalking back across the pool area to the hotel. 

"Nice Lydia, very nice," Danny sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the Italian guy who looked rather confused.

"I won't apologize for doing my job," Lydia replied smartly, "all of this information will go to help forge a new bestiary entry for Griffin.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go email Thompson to tell him the news."  With that, she stood up, gathered her papers and phone and walked off towards the hotel herself.

Stiles let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding before glancing over to where Scott had a confused look on his greenified face. 

"You alright buddy?" Stiles squinted as he took off his sunglasses.

"Yeah," Scott shook his head, "it's just...that last question...Derek was lying." 

"Nah, not possible," Stiles replied, "whenever he gave a wrong answer the doors simply refused to open until he said the absolute truth."

"No, that's not it..." Scott trailed off before shaking his head, "I think he lied about the _question_.  His heart skipped a beat." 

"Maybe he had hiccoughs?" Stiles shrugged as he slid his legs off of the lounger and reached for his crutches.

"You okay Stiles?" Kira asked with a concerned expression.

"Fine," Stiles swallowed, "just been in the sun a bit too long, think I'll go get another elderflower drink thing,"

 

It took him a while but Stiles eventually managed to reach room 68 where he tentatively knocked on the door.  "Hey, it's me," he called softly as the door clicked open to reveal a tired looking Derek.

"I know," Derek told him, "I recognize your heartbeat."

"Oh..." Stiles trailed off, not sure how to respond or what to take from that.  "Derek I'm sorry about Lydia making you answer those questions again," he said instead.

Derek shrugged, "it's fine, it's her job.  It's all of our jobs." 

"You know what you need?" Stiles grinned sheepishly as Derek raised his eyebrows.

"A vacation?" Derek supplied as Stiles laughed and shook his head.

"Nah, I was thinking more like a massage, they do them in the rooms if you didn't feel like going out.  The masseuse we met by the pool earlier, the blonde girl called Sophie, she's apparently really good according to Kira.  I don't mind going and hanging out by the bar if you'd rather have some privacy or..."

"I don't really like being touched by people I don't know," Derek said, the words dropping like stones in the well of Stiles' chest.

"Oh.." Stiles repeated dumbly.

"Bad memories," Derek winced, looking back up at Stiles before sighing and turning round and looking like he was going to go take a shower.  He pulled his T-shirt off over his head and grabbed his towel before Stiles made the snap decision.

"I could give you a massage?"

Stiles reckoned if he timed it well, he could still totally make it to the balcony on his crutches and throw himself off before Derek had the chance to reply. 

"Okay," Derek replied softly, almost inaudibly.

"Sorry,  yeah it was a dumb ide...wait what?" Stiles gaped at the other man, he was feeling like a floundering fish again.

"I said okay, thank you, that would be nice," Derek clarified, the tips of his ears turning a fire engine red. 

"Er, sure! Yeah, well...just hop on the bed and I'll manoeuvre myself on top of you...I mean..."

"Will it be too awkward?" Derek asked, scrunching his eyebrows together and staring somewhere near Stiles' feet.

"No!" Stiles cried desperately, "I mean we're friends right and..."

"Stiles," Derek sighed, "I meant will it be too awkward with your ankle?"

"Oh..."

"Yeah,"

"No I'm sure it will be fine, thank you Derek," Stiles said as politely as possible to try and distance himself from the 150 pound of pale skin and fragile bone that formed his very being. 

 

Massaging the object of your desire was, quite honestly, one the worse ideas that Stiles Stilinski had ever had the misfortune of coming up with.  It ranked right up there with the honey-on-the-stair-rail Halloween prank of 2006.  And that had ended in grievous bodily harm...to _Stiles_.

After about three minutes Stiles caught himself just absently tracing the swirling lines of Derek's triskele tattoo.  He flinched his hand back as if burned and flushed a deep red as Derek shifted noticeably beneath him.  "Sorry, got lost in thought," Stiles explained with a wince, "do you have any particular areas you'd like me to work on?"

 _Say your crotch, say your crotch, say your crotch_.

"My neck and shoulders," Derek said carefully, as if testing to see whether that request was a bridge too far.  Stiles smiled softly, nodding before remembering that Derek couldn't see him.

"Sure, no problem, they must get a bit achey what with the weight of the world on them," Stiles said whilst beginning to knead the base of Derek's neck, remembering the pine scent from his piggy back ride.

Derek  snorted in response and stretched to crack his neck from side to side, as if emphasising the point.

"Ew, don't do that!" Stiles scolded, batting Derek gently on the shoulder, "you're always cracking your neck so much, you're like a walking piece of bubble wrap."

"That' s lucky," Derek replied, although his voice was muffled from the pillow, "Scott's always saying you're so accident prone we need to carry around bubble wrap."

Stiles laughed, "Okay sure, I'll just wrap myself in you!"

_So if I really try hard, could I jump off the balcony from this position on the bed?_

 

Stiles weathered the subsequent awkward silence like a pro before Derek cracked his neck again and diffused the tension.  Seriously after the promised half hour was up, _Stiles_ would be the one in dire need of some relaxation therapy. 

"So, what happened at Cora's ninth birthday party?" Stiles asked a moment later before hesitating, his thumb slipping over the nooks in Derek's upper spine.  "I mean, shit sorry, you totally don't have to talk about that stuff if..."

"Stiles it's okay.  It's a good memory," Derek murmured, although he was beginning to sound slightly sleepy.  It was the same voice he used when he indulged Stiles' late night existential crises rants. 

"Mom invited all of the family round for a barbeque and me and Laura decorated the garden with fairy lights.  Dad and Peter dressed up like knights and 'escorted Princess Cora' to the party." 

Stiles laughed loudly as he saw Derek turn his face on the pillow to show his own wide grin. 

"Oh my god, that's amazing!" Stiles exclaimed, "I'm only ever going to refer to her as Princess Cora from now on,"

"Ugh, don't," Derek groaned, "she'll kill me for telling you." 

"Just one thing though..." Stiles smirked, "was the dress pink?"

Derek paused for a moment before rolling carefully round onto his back, he managed to do it without dislodging Stiles, leaving the younger boy suddenly in the position of straddling Derek's chest.

"It was _bright_ pink," Derek whispered gleefully as if imparting some dangerously wicked secret. 

Stiles threw back his head and laughed again.  He loved it when Derek told him shit like this, when he could tell Derek's smiles were actually real because of the amount of teeth they showed.

(Derek had always been very self-conscious about his teeth)

(It made Stiles want to coax them out all the more, it was like the white pearly seal of approval on top of Stiles' jokes to let him know they were actually funny.)

 "How's your ankle?" Derek asked with a fond smile as he flicked his eyes down to the cast.

"It's okay," Stiles nodded, "but I'm never letting Lydia or Danny pick the holiday destination ever again."

"How about somewhere in the Caribbean next year? We'll find the least supernatural island possible?" Derek suggested with a wide, relaxed smile.

"Oh god, yes please!" Stiles groaned, wriggling his hips in excitement and noticing Derek's smile waver slightly.  Embarrassed he'd done something he shouldn't have, Stiles employed his tried and tested method of talking his way out of awkwardness.

"I just want to lie on some beach _all_ day and sip exotic drinks out of coconuts and put a ban on bestiaries for the entire week we're there. "

"Let's make it two weeks," Derek sighed, closing his eyes as if he could picture himself there already, "and let's book Lydia into a different hotel?"

Stiles guffawed loudly, making Derek's eyes flash open with a pleased expression.  "Hell to the yes!" Stiles agreed, "one on the other side of the island preferably!"

"Danny can go with her for company," Derek continued, moving his hands absently to settle on Stiles' hips as if to make sure he didn't slip off the bed and hurt his ankle more. 

"S-sure!" Stiles replied with a slight stutter as Derek's fingers began to move in small, almost imperceptible circles through Stiles' shorts.  "Also Scott - because all he does is strut around in his bathing trunks, making me feel inferior," Stiles chuckled, "there'll just have to be an express shuttle between the two hotels or something so I get my daily dose of my best buddy,"

"I don't make you feel inferior?" Derek smirked, cocking his eyebrow questioningly, "should I be offended Stiles?"

"Oh no!" Stiles laughed, "looking at you is fine...I mean...um..." he trailed off whilst his body decided to enter the ' _Who's redder? You or a Boiled Lobster?!'_ competition without his permission.  "What I mean is like Scott's more similar to my frame, whereas like...you I couldn't even begin to compare..." Stiles lifted up his hand to scratch at the back of his head which he suddenly found was incredibly itchy and took precedence over anything else soul crushingly humiliating that might be happening in the world right now. 

"Kira would want to be with Scott of course," Derek murmured, interrupting Stiles' kamikaze train of thoughts.

"Huh? Oh yeah - unless she wanted to hang with you!" Stiles grinned, "you've kinda become her adopted older brother." 

"You think?" Derek screwed up his face in an expression Stiles had never seen him pull before, as if he was being bashful and hopeful all at the same time.  it was adorable.

"Hell yeah, dude she's even started dressing like you!" Stiles laughed.

"So that would just leave us?" Derek said quietly as Stiles gulped. 

"Yeah..." Stiles smiled valiantly, "we'd get the hotel just for ourselves."  He cleared his throat awkwardly, "I mean think about it - it would be great! No having to help all the elderly people carry all their luggage from the airport on Scott's orders, because let's face it - me and you? Not so much with the golden boys thing.  No early morning meetings discussing work, no thank you Lydia."

"No Danny sexiling us," Derek added with a scarred expression, "that happened once in Alaska," he added gravely, "the strange thing was, I was sharing with Scott."

Stiles snorted, rocking forwards to push his forehead against Derek's chest before remembering that the other boy didn't have a shirt on. 

 

_Oh well, too late, my sweaty forehead's fused to his perfectly smooth skin and we're now stuck like this forever._

 

"We wouldn't have to stay up watching Kira's horror movies with her because she's too scared to watch them alone!" Stiles giggled, remembering Derek's face during Cabin in the Woods, he'd never seen anyone look less impressed. 

"We'd actually get to pick the movies for once..." Derek said quietly as if the thought was precious to him. 

"Dude I'd totally let you pick the movie," Stiles smiled against Derek's chest, un-sticking his forehead and resting his chin on the other boy's sternum, grinning up at him.  Stiles suddenly noticed that Derek's hands had migrated up from Stiles' hips to his sides.  It was _almost_ a hug, and it made Stiles feel safe and warm, even in the middle of elf-infested Iceland. 

"I..." Derek began with a wistful smile, however he was interrupted by the hurried press of Stiles' lips against his.

 

_STILES' LIPS AGAINST HIS._

 

"Oh shit!" Stiles exclaimed as he drew back from the very un-reciprocating mouth he was currently assaulting.  "Oh shit I'm so fucking sorry,"

"Stiles..."

"No, shit sorry," Stiles stammered reeling backwards and grabbing at his crutches.  The following sequence of gymnastic moves could only really be described as 'pole-vaulting' as Stiles catapulted himself face first into the adjoining bathroom and ended up just managing to crawl to the door in time to slam in shut and pull the lock across before Derek could get there to push through.

"Stiles," Derek's warning growl came from the other side of the wood panelling that was currently the only shield Stiles had from reality. 

"I did _not_ just do that," Stiles muttered emphatically to himself, "I'm under an elf spell, I'm..."

"Stiles, I can hear you," Derek sighed, there was a subsequent noise as if the other man had slumped to sit down against the door.  "Just tell me if you hurt yourself in that acrobatic display?"

"Er...no, I'm fine thanks," Stiles replied in a slightly too high-pitched voice as he leaned over to check he hadn't cracked his cast or something. 

"Stiles we should talk about..."

"Nope," Stiles interrupted firmly, "no talking, absolutely no talking."  He groaned as he pushed himself with his back up against the door and imagined Derek doing the same on the other side.  it was perversely comforting.  "Just in this future hypothetical holiday we have planned, I'll probably be at another hotel altogether okay? In fact I'll probably be on a different island, preferably located in a different ocean." 

Stiles flinched as he thought he could make out Derek's chuckle on the other side of the door.  Okay, he'd expected for the other man to be horrified, disgusted even when he found out that Stiles was crushing hard on him,  but not for Derek to _laugh_ at him.  The sound made Stiles feel like shrivelling up and rolling under the Jacuzzi bath like a long forgotten dust bunny that the broom couldn't quite reach. 

"Stiles if you go to a different island who will watch Willow with me?"

Stiles couldn't help but smile and nearly burst into tears at the same time.  Only Derek and Scott knew about his weird obsession with 80s fantasy movies.  Scott knew because he'd known Stiles since they were in diapers and were practically brothers.  Derek knew because Stiles had walked in on him watching The Dark Crystal at the loft and they'd subsequently bonded over the use of puppets in cult movies. 

"That the movie you gonna pick?" Stiles sniffed, wiping embarrassed at his nose and praising the heavens that at least Derek couldn't physically _see_ how pathetic he was right now.    

"Of course," Derek replied, "and we'll make salt popcorn, not that toffee crap that the others always insist on."

"Heathens, the lot of them!" Stiles exclaimed with a bubble of laughter pushing through his misery. 

"We won't go searching for any elves," Derek added, "we could just spend all day in the room if we wanted."

"Ordering room service?" Stiles murmured, Thompson never let them order room service on the Griffin budget.

"Doing whatever," Derek said after a pause.  Stiles frowned as he heard the other man sigh loudly again, "Stiles will you just open the door?"

"Don't make me," Stiles pleaded quietly, although he knew that Derek would still be able to hear him.

There was another moment's silence before Derek spoke again, "How about I pay you a truth, will you open the door then?"

"I'm not a fucking elf!" Stiles laughed miserably as the first tear rolled down his cheek like some announcing chariot at a pity parade. 

"Come on Stiles," Derek coaxed, "one truth, there must be something you want to ask me?"

Stiles rubbed at his face, his fingers coming away incriminatingly damp before he wracked his brains.  He'd probably need Derek's help to get to his crutches anyway.  They'd somehow ended up on the other side of the bathroom. 

"What..." Stiles began before steeling himself, "what was the fifth question the huldufólk-woman asked you?"

Stiles bit his lip anxiously as the silence of Derek not replying stretched on.  He was just about to think up a new question when Derek cleared his throat, "She asked me where the person I loved was." 

"Oh," Stiles sighed, closing his eyes before flicking them wide open again.  "Wait..." he murmured.

"Stiles, open the door, a deal is a deal," Derek said in a low voice with a hint of his old 'alpha' tone. 

"You...you replied 'here, in the tunnel',"

"Yes I did Stiles, now before you ask me if I'm in love with an elf I just met could you please just open the door first so I can throttle you?"

Stiles' laughter burst out of him like an Icelandic hot spring, warming up his heart and quite frankly, providing a more invigorating experience that some blonde masseuse brandishing seaweed _ever_ could.

The door clicked open to reveal Derek sat upright with his back still to the bathroom before he stretched and lay down so that his head was beside Stiles' as the younger boy did the same. 

"So..."

"Yes Stiles, I'm in love with you.  Yes Stiles, the rest of the pack probably knows and no Stiles you are absolutely not allowed to vacation to a different ocean because the sight of you in those sky blue swimming trunks is the sole reason I actually come on these trips."

"I...I thought you had a really good work ethic?" Stiles stammered, trying to suppress the hysterical giggles that were threatening to volcano out of him. 

Derek chuckled drily before twisting his head to look Stiles in the eyes, he moved so quickly that Stiles didn't have time to react before Derek's lips had moved down to press against his, albeit from a different way up. 

A few minutes of languid kissing later that had turned Stiles into a melty pile of melted lava goo, Derek helped carry him over to one of the beds.  Stiles wasn't even sure whose it was because he was far too focussed on getting Derek to kiss him again.  Except Derek had pulled back and was now just looking at Stiles with this dumb smile on his face whilst he stroked the side of the younger boy's face. 

"You should be kissing me," Stiles announced seriously.

"Oh should I?" Derek smirked, raising an eyebrow that just _did_ things to Stiles.  "Does that mean I'm going to disappear off of the face of the Earth?"    

"Huh? Oh! Nope," Stiles shook his head vehemently, "you've already done that remember? After Cora came back you guys went off to South America together for months.  You didn't call, you didn't write,"

"Oh so I've used up my 'disappearing' quota have I?" Derek gave an amused smile as he carded his fingers through Stiles' hair. 

"Yup," Stiles nodded firmly, "and as for me, well I've already used up my 'turning out to be a psychotic evil killer' quota so we can scratch that off the list from happening again.  I mean lightening doesn't strike twice and all that...well unless Kira's the one controlling it and she's fighting a Himalayan Yeti, jeez do you remember..."

"Stiles,"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up,"

Stiles was about to argue when Derek's lips were pressed tightly against his again and all thoughts floated away from his brain like paper aeroplanes folded out of love notes.

Suddenly he realised that a hand was pushing questioningly at the hem of his shirt.  Stiles felt their lips disconnect again, much to his chagrin, and found himself blinking up widely into Derek's assessing eyes.

"Why did we stop?" Stiles asked, "I know I'm a good kisser, despite what my track record might suggest,"

Derek snorted softly before leaning down to nip Stiles' chin affectionately. 

"I was just wondering what you were comfortable with?" Derek asked, almost shyly.

"Oh!" Stiles exclaimed before swallowing noisily, "Er..."

"We won't do anything you're not ready for," Derek murmured, snuffling further down Stiles' neck. 

"I've been ready for years," Stiles groaned, shifting up the bed to wrestle off his shirt with Derek's help.  "I just didn't realise you were waiting alongside me in the starting blocks," 

"Slow and steady wins the race," Derek chuckled, nosing ticklishly at Stiles' armpit. 

"Yeah, well try falling in love with someone who lives in his shell most of the time," Stiles grumbled.

"Try someone who's always bouncing miles ahead of you," Derek retorted before pausing his line of kisses down Stiles' left arm, "you love me?"

"Er, yeah.  I thought that was evident," Stiles blushed.

"Still nice to hear," Derek grinned up at him, before moving his kiss trail further down Stiles' torso, not removing his eyes from Stiles'.  By the time Derek's lips reached the lower part of Stiles' happy trail, there was a painfully obvious tent in his swimming trunks. 

Derek looked up with raised eyebrows and a smirk at Stiles' erection pressed up against the stretchy fabric, and subsequently the base of Derek's throat. 

"Oh Jesus," Stiles exhaled, flopping back down against the pillow, taking his eyes off of Derek before he did something horrifically embarrassing that there would be no _coming_ back from.     

To Stiles' relief/distress, Derek began moving up his body again until Stiles could feel himself being on the pleasantly receiving end of Eskimo kisses.  Stiles was about to voice his physical confusion when suddenly a new far more exciting sensation hit him. 

Derek was grinding their crotches together, their stiff erections rubbing hard against each other with every friction filled slide.  Stiles gasped as his mouth fell open into a wide 'O'.

"You okay?" Derek murmured, nibbling at Stiles' ear and making that entire side of his body tingle as if it was doing its own separate victory dance. 

"You have no idea..." Stiles replied in a hoarse croak, "but can...can I..."

"You can do _anything_ ," Derek replied, making Stiles need to bite his lip again to let the pain distract him from tipping over the edge.  He wanted to admire the spectacular view for at least a few more minutes. 

Stiles reached out to edge his trunks down over his hips, making Derek still his own thrusting hips with a faintly surprised expression.  "Do you...do you want me to also?"

"Yes," Stiles breathed deeply before nodding to corroborate the statement even further.  "Please?"

Derek groaned low and pressed his cheek against Stiles' before stretching down to remove his own shorts. 

"Um, a little help?" Stiles asked, blushing as his trunks got caught on his ankle cast. 

"Fuck, I forgot," Derek swore, his eyes narrowing at the white plaster, "I don't want to exacerbate the injury,"

"No, no no," Stiles garbled quickly, "no injury, just my pride, please come back here and fix it?"

Derek raised an amused eyebrow as he shifted back up Stiles' front, plastering them together as the silky smooth skin of their cocks came together and began to spasm in twitches of pleasure and excitement.

"Oh god," Stiles croaked, closing his eyes tightly.

"Stiles, look at me," Derek asked softly, leaning down to cradle Stiles' face with his hand, the other one propping him up as he continued to rhythmically thrust against Stiles in a way that was sending sparks of pleasure shooting up Stiles' spine like it was the fucking fourth of July and Stiles was the night sky.

Stiles flashed his eyes open, locking onto Derek's hazel green ones for the big finale.  Stiles' own hips thrust up jerkily off the bed as he came, hot wet spurts splattered across his stomach like an erotic Pollock painting. 

"Shit, Stiles," Derek moaned, diving in to kiss Stiles fiercely as he too stuttered in his movements and Stiles could feel new pulsing strings flung across his flushed and heated skin.

They lay that way for a while afterwards, panting and basking in the afterglow. 

"Okay," Stiles sighed after what seemed like an eternity of bliss, "maybe elves have got the right idea after all,"

Derek's responding chuckle was deep and sleep and it came with a further nuzzling into the crook of Stiles' neck.

"Hey," Stiles protested weakly, "I have to go clean myself up."

"No need," Derek sighed, "you're getting a volcanic mud scrub tomorrow remember?"

"Oh god bless Iceland," Stiles murmured, sinking lower in the bed and closing his eyes as he fell asleep to the feel of Derek's warm breath on his skin, the other man hugging him tighter and throwing the blankets back over the two of them.          

 

 

************************************

 

 

 "You're kidding right?" Stiles stared at Lydia with the most incredulous look on his face that he could muster.

"It's an informed decision Stiles," Lydia told him imperiously, "I don't think there's enough research material or information on Icelandic elves.  I'm going to change my paper topic to trolls instead."

"If you'll excuse us," Derek suddenly announced, standing up from the breakfast table and hoisting Stiles up with him.  The rest of the pack looking on in amusement.

"We are going back to our room where we'll be ordering room service and staying in bed for the rest of the day."

"Yeah!" Stiles joined in excitedly, "and there'll be a 'do not disturb' sign on the door that you should _really_ pay attention to, or not, if that's your thing."

Stiles giggled as Derek growled and flung a possessive arm around him, steering him firmly towards the elevator. 

"Way too much information dude!" Scott called out from behind them.

"Don't forget it's movie night tonight!" Kira shouted, "Mine and Scott's room - we're watching the Japanese original of the Grudge - Ju-on!"

As the elevator doors closed behind them and Stiles grinned back at the beaming smiles of the pack, he turned to give Derek a quick kiss on the lips, "Don't worry," he whispered, "I smuggled salt popcorn in in my suitcase," 

"I love you," Derek sighed happily as he reached up to rest his chin on top of Stiles' head.

"I love you too," Stiles replied quietly, but not too quietly for a werewolf to hear. 

 

 

***********************************     

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading and have nice day ❤


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